


Art Appreciation

by AtropaAzraelle (Polyoxyethylene)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Ogling, waxing lyrical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 01:10:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13155978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyoxyethylene/pseuds/AtropaAzraelle
Summary: Gladio's body is a masterpiece, and Ignis is a fan of art.





	Art Appreciation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Swordy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swordy/gifts).



> Swordy, you're the good kind of nuts, and kind, and caring, and I'm lucky to know you. I hope next year is as filled with shared laughter and ideas as last. Merry Christmas.

Sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, bathing the room in soft glowing gold and orange light. It snuck through the gaps, rimming the window in a halo of light, and casting a lone finger of brilliant sunrise into the room where it stretched out and draped itself across the bed and the sleeping figure sprawled on it. The day outside was bright, and beautiful, but Ignis couldn’t bring himself to part the curtains and let it into the room just yet.

He lingered in the doorway, coffee in hand, his shoulder resting against the frame. He’d been up and showered, and dressed, and even had time to make himself a coffee, and Gladio had yet to stir. He was still feeling the sweet ache of fingers at his hips, and the lovebite Gladio had graced him with sat barely low enough to be concealed by his shirt collar. Gladio had earned his rest, and Ignis didn’t have the heart to wake him.

Gladio had kicked the sheets off in the night. He lay sprawled on his back, one arm up above his head where it had lain around Ignis until Ignis had stirred. The feathers of his tattoo hid the contours of the muscles on his arms, but Ignis could still feel them when he pressed Gladio into the pillows by his wrists and then let his fingers trail down the ripple and swell of trained flesh to his torso. The eagle’s beak rested on a nipple, drawing the eye inexorably to the small pucker of flesh that Ignis had drawn his tongue over many a time.

Gladio’s face was turned away, towards the window, his stubbled jaw thrown into sharp relief, the corded muscle of his neck stretched out invitingly. Ignis was tempted to crawl onto the bed, to bend low and return the favour from last night and suck and bite his own possessive mark onto Gladio’s throat, but Gladio would wear it as a badge of pride instead of viewing it as a mild inconvenience. He always did when Ignis marked him. When Ignis’ blunt nails had drawn welts down Gladio’s back, or when metal cuffs had left bruises around Gladio’s wrists Gladio would spend the day revelling in the sting of Ignis’ pleasures. Gladio had been inordinately pleased with himself the morning he’d been left with a stilted walk, as if the fact he’d goaded Ignis into riding him so hard into the bed he was feeling it the next day was an achievement, instead of a bother.

Gladio’s collarbone stood out invitingly below his neck, leading up to the dip at the hollow of his throat, or across, in a gentle swoop of bone that outlined muscle. There were a handful of tiny freckles smattered across Gladio’s chest; the result of an aversion to proper shirts that had set in at around the same time as the muscle had, and two larger ones that faded with the sun but never left. Beauty spots they’d been called in Tenebrae; Ignis himself was salted in them, but the name was especially pertinent when it came to Gladio, and their placement on Gladio’s chest. They lay just within reach of Ignis’ mouth, inviting him to press his lips there every time he saw them.

He took a sip of his coffee as his eyes drew down, to the sculpted pecs and abdominal muscles Gladio so readily displayed. The stream of sunlight danced and skipped over the mounds and valleys Gladio had cultivated, casting the lines in shadow, and illuminating the peaks. Ignis could while away his day staring at Gladio’s body, trying to memorise every mark, and scar, and muscle. He’d traced the outlines with his tongue and his fingers, painting an image of Gladio in his senses like an artist sculpting a masterpiece, but every time he thought he had it right, he’d see Gladio again and find his breath stolen by just how stunning the man was. The muscles of his stomach flexed as he breathed now, his chest rising and steadily falling in slow movements, and Ignis felt like he was watching a sculpture of some ancient god come alive in his bed.

The sheets lay rumpled down around Gladio’s legs, one hip bared to the room, the soft, downy hair of Gladio’s upper thigh aglow in the light. His modesty was barely concealed by the sheet, a shock of thick, dark hair peeking from under the edge of it. The rest remained hidden, becoming all the more tantalising for the promise that a shift of a couple of inches one way or the other would result in Ignis being able to see everything of the cock he’d worshipped and sucked last night before he’d bowed across the bed and been taken with all the strength of every one of those muscles.

Gladio groaned, softly, and sleepily, stirring and stretching on the bed, making muscles flex and the mattress creak. Ignis only smiled and took another sip of his coffee as he watched Gladio stretch his arms and roll over slightly, the sheet making good on its promise and giving way to display the enticing length of Gladio’s form in all its glory. “Good morning,” Ignis said, not moving from his position against the doorframe.

Gladio opened his eyes, long dark eyelashes fluttering so Ignis could be held in an amber gaze, and then he closed them and stretched once more, a shoulder popping with the movement. “You’re up,” Gladio said.

“I am,” Ignis confirmed, settling a little more against the doorframe.

Gladio opened his eyes again after luxuriating in the stretch, and then turned to Ignis. Ignis felt eyes tracking over his legs, and stomach, and chest, before coming to rest on his face. “You going somewhere?”

Ignis allowed Gladio a twitch of a smile. “Later,” he admitted.

“How much later?”

Ignis considered his answer, looking into his coffee cup and taking another drink before he committed to one. “That depends.”

He saw Gladio smirk, and shift his hips. His cock was already starting to stir, and Ignis cast a critical eye over it before returning to Gladio’s face. “Late enough to put those clothes back on again?”

Ignis pursed his lips as he smiled, leaning his weight back up off the doorframe. He lifted his coffee cup and took a deep drink before he stepped forward, and placed it down on the bedside table with a decisive click. “Late enough for that,” he agreed.

Gladio’s hand extended out to him, and Ignis took it slowly, letting himself be guided in, and down into a penetrating kiss.


End file.
